


With Outstretched Hands

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: 4+1 Things, 5 Things, 5 Times, ALL OF THE HUGS, Aftermath of Violence, Anger, Angst and Feels, Arguing, Attempted Hug, Bitterness, Brotherly Love, Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Caring, Celebrations, Confessions, Confusion, Crime Fighting, Crying, Denial, Desperation, Encouragement, Escape, Exhaustion, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hatred, Healing, Heartbreak, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury Recovery, Isolation, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, Loneliness, Missions Gone Wrong, Multiple Selves, Names, Overworking, Pre-Canon, Referenced Suicide Attempt, References to Depression, Rejection, Role Reversal, Second Chances, Self Confidence Issues, Stress, Threats of Violence, Touch-Starved, Trust, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, compassion - Freeform, fear of failure, triumph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: It was his job to hold them up. It always had been; he was always,alwaysmeant to have his hands on their backs, whether he was carrying them, rubbing away their constant stress, or simply showing he was on their side.(Or: One time Jackieboy Man offered a hug and was refused, three times he gave the best hugs ever, and one time he got a hug in return.)





	1. Rejection Doesn't Hurt, Expectation Does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place sort of "pre-canon", or at least before August 11, 2016. Marvin, Schneeplestein, and Chase haven't been created yet, which leaves Jackieboy and Anti to themselves...

1.

Anti had been making surprise appearances lately, which Jackieboy was quick to notice. It was just the two of them, after all, and it wasn’t hard to keep appraised of the other’s condition when there were very few distractions to serve them. Jackieboy was still up and coming as a superhero—he’d taken part in his tenth police chase last week!—but it hadn’t taken him nearly as long to decipher Anti and the world he lived in. It was a rather straightforward one:

_Hate J̵ac̛k҉.Kill Jac̕k͠. ͝Dest̷r҉o͝y h̴i̡m n͠o̸ ͝mat͘ter what it ta͞kȩs̛.͠_

Jackieboy would never dare to say he understood it—because he didn’t and he never wanted to—but he could admit that he wanted to know about Anti himself. They were the first two of their kind! Jack had knowingly, passionately created them both to be _his_ —his ally and his enemy. He knew everything about them, he had given them a home here at Egos Central, and he made sure they stayed within the boundaries of safety.

From Anti’s point of view, Jack’s overarching knowledge was a weakness, Egos Central was a hellish prison, and those boundaries were all that stood between him and slitting Jack’s throat. Jackieboy couldn’t bear to imagine the grief he would feel if _that_ ever happened.

It was true that the feverish lust for death and destruction that Anti fostered was disturbing on all accounts, but deep down Jackieboy still felt…something of a kinship with him. They were “brothers”, of a sort, and the hero stood by blood first. Jack was his blood and Anti was his blood, whether either of them liked it or not.

The next time he and Anti came across each other, Jackieboy could already tell that something was different about him today. He was glitching much more frequently than usual, bits and pieces of him scattering to the air and never quite reassembling. For a solid minute, Jackieboy took in the sight, wondering if he had ever really considered what he was about to do…what he was about to _try_.

“Looking for w̶e̕a̧kn͏esses͟, he͜r͝o?” Anti asked, his neck contorting disconcertingly as he half-turned his head, showing off bared teeth to his observer.

“Just looking at you,” Jackieboy answered honestly, obviously, squaring his shoulders as he crossed the distance. About a yard away, his nerve wavered and he halted where he was as Anti whirled around to face him, his frame crackling and spitting violently.

“Then l͢ơ͡ok͞͡ somewhere else! Look in the̢ mi̶rror̵ if you’re so i̸n͞v͜e̡ste͝d in the _w͠e̴ak_ ,” he sneered. “That or _k̷eep_ ļoo͡k̸i̡ng—feel free! It’s high time you start pa̸y̡ing ͜m̢ore a̛t̵t͞e̸n̨ti͏on! The more a̛tt͡enti̕o̢n I get, the stronger I become, and I’m str͏o̕n̨g͡e̷r now than I’ve _ev̶e͘r b̶e̸e͡n̢!_ You ca̵n’t sto͢p ͡me! I—” Anti let his threat go unfinished, recoiling like a threatened animal as Jackieboy reached out, hands held up placatingly. It wasn’t an attack and the Glitch realized it, but he pressed against the nearby wall nonetheless, snarling, “W͞ha̷t͜ ̨ąr̨e ͢y̕ou ͞doi̛n̸g̕, _fr̶e͟a͝k?!_ ”

“You’re calling _me_ the freak?” Jackieboy countered incredulously even as he closed in a second time and was dodged a second time. “I’m just—Anti, I’m just trying to touch you!”

The black in Anti’s eyes sputtered, a hint of blue peeking through for barely a second before he burst into a fit of laughter, his teeth securely clenched around it. “W҉͡͠ ell, then! If we’re p͟l͠a̷ying̶ ̴ga͞m̢es, cat͞ch ̷me i̶f̴ y̛o̷u͘ ͜c͝a͞n.”

Quite sure now that he was insane for trying—but somehow not caring much—Jackieboy huffed in frustration as he made one last attempt to grab at the Glitch, who promptly stopped laughing and surged to the other end of the spectrum, haphazardly flinging one of his knives. As it missed the hero by a few inches, Anti swore profusely, his voice filled with such rage and hatred that it was a near-incomprehensible screech.

Jackieboy opened his mouth to bark at his counterpart— _Calm down, stay still, I’m trying to help!_ —but he was already fracturing into static and dissipating through Jackieboy’s fingers. In a blur he made his escape through the far wall and Jackieboy blinked a few times, lowering his eyes from the wall to his empty hands, still outstretched. After another few moments, he let them fall slowly back to his sides.

 _Why did I even bother?_ he wondered vaguely. _I knew it wouldn’t work, but I still tried…_

Perhaps it was Jack’s doing. His creator had molded him with an innate need to see the best in people—or try to create it—against impossible odds. In Anti’s case, however, the odds truly _were_ impossible.

He didn’t intend to try again. He had a feeling the next knife wouldn’t miss.


	2. What's In A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place immediately after Jack's video, [SO MUCH FANART | Septic Art #1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rL9MC9_lUjI&t=1610s). I suggest you give it a watch before reading this, but it's not mandatory! :)

2.

Jackieboy flew home as fast as he could, narrowly dodging some birds that threatened to get in his way, and almost overshot Egos Central because he was caught up in his exhilaration. When he did touch down, he didn’t quite stick the landing, stumbling to regain his balance, but he couldn’t pay attention to that; he didn’t have the time.

After what had seemed like endless waiting and intermittent nagging at their creator’s mind, it finally had happened! Near the end of his patrol around the city, just as he was wrapping up some housebreakers for the police to find, Jackieboy had received a call from Chase, who was so excited that he could hardly speak. Through the overeager babbling and Schneep’s cheers in the background, Jackieboy had eventually discerned the truth:

It was almost a year to the day since the magician was created and at long last, Jack had given him a name. His name was _Marvin_ , Marvin the Magnificent, and it was wonderful and unique and Jackieboy was so happy for him that his chest threatened to burst.

He had known since his friend first appeared that his lack of an official name had hurt him deeply. All of the others had gotten their names with their very first appearances; it encompassed everything they were, everything they stood for, and it meant Jack had gone out of his way to show love to them. The magician hadn’t been satisfied with his stage name, “Jack the Magnificent”, and he’d confessed as much to Jackieboy once. It felt like a copout on Jack’s part.

“What’s different about me, Jackie?” he asked forlornly. “What do all of you have that I don’t, and how do I get it so he’ll _name_ me?”

Jackieboy hadn’t had an answer for him, at least not one that either of them wanted to hear, so he had opted not to say anything at all. He didn’t dare to speak for their creator; if he misrepresented what went on in Jack’s head, he was confident that the magician would only become bitterer towards him.

He should have known better than to doubt the strength of the fans—they all should have. The fans noticed. They poured their hearts into fan art for the magician just as much as they did for the others, patiently calling attention back to him until Jack’s most recent video.

_“This guy doesn’t have a name…” Jack mused thoughtfully, leaning close to the fan art with his chin in his hand, a smile playing around his lips. “I guess we’re just gonna call him Marv from now on! Good ol’ Marv!”_

“Good ol’ Marv,” Jackieboy echoed now in a whisper, letting it sink in. As he moved toward the door, the magician himself opened it and stood facing him, eyes wide behind his cat mask. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Marvin!” the hero crowed, grinning from ear to ear as he took four large strides and scooped his friend off the ground into a triumphant hug. In his hold, Marvin froze completely, his own arms pinned tightly to his sides, and it took just a few seconds before Jackieboy registered the fact that he was trembling and it was too violent to be excited nerves.

Joy crumbling into concern, he hurriedly set him down, demanding, “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” and trying to catch Marvin’s wide, glassy eyes with his own. “Can you hear me?”

“I…I can’t even think,” Marvin muttered hoarsely, more to himself than to the hero as he stared off into the distance. “I don’t know _what_ to think.” He sounded completely overwhelmed, even scared, and he ducked his head suddenly. “D-Does my name…make me someone else? Is everyone gonna treat me different now?”

“Yeah, they are, and that’s a _good_ thing!” Jackieboy assured him desperately. Marv didn’t lift his head, so Jackieboy wasn’t sure if he had just made things better or worse. He couldn’t leave him like this, however; this was supposed to be a _win_ for them. Trying to stifle his worry, he shifted inward a second time, albeit much more slowly, and slid his arms underneath Marvin’s limp cape in search of his back. He felt thin and unprotected and exposed all of a sudden and Jackieboy knit his fingers together very loosely over his spine, hoping not to trap him.

“Sometimes Jack tells the fans that he chose my name because it was the stupidest he could come up with,” the hero admitted in a breathless rush, hoping his own vulnerability would coax Marvin down a little. “Your name is _Magnificent_.” He felt Marv swallow and nod infinitesimally at that.

“But can I live up to it, Jackie?” Even though the question was spoken immediately next to his ear, Jackieboy almost didn’t catch it. Biting his lip, he tightened the weave of his fingers, feeling how fast his heart raced.

“It suits you perfectly,” he promised, relishing the relief he felt when Marvin’s hands gradually found his shoulder blades and stayed there.


	3. Punish For Performance

3.

It didn’t take long for a sharp clatter to bring Jackieboy out of sound sleep. Lifting his head, he squinted against the brightness filtering underneath his bedroom door. Someone had turned on the light in the kitchen, which meant it probably wouldn’t be Anti or an intruder, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep until he had checked and made certain. Groaning groggily, he untangled his legs from the blankets and stumbled out to assess the situation.

There he found Schneep fiddling with the coffeepot, spitting curses and smacking his palm against the machine as it didn’t respond fast enough. When the coffee was finally pouring, he leaned against the counter, showing his fatigue for just a moment as he combed his fingers through his fringe before grabbing his fresh brew and dumping copious amounts of sugar into it.

“What are you doing up this late?” Jackieboy questioned as greeting, unfortunately causing the doctor to jump with his sudden appearance. The jerky motion proceeded to splash scalding coffee on his hands and sleeves and he yelped, dropping the mug on an impulse. Jackieboy cringed at the resulting crash, hurriedly glancing at Marvin and Chase’s doors and then rushing forward to grab ahold of Schneep’s wrists. “Here, put ’em underwater—”

“I don’t need water!” Schneep hollered with no regard for their sleeping comrades, tearing his hands away to gesture wildly at the broken mug on the floor. “I needed _coffee_ and that was the very _last_ of it and now it’s wasted! Ruined! _Everything’s ruined!_ ” With that he shoved past the startled superhero, furiously snatching up the largest shard of the mug he could find and reeling back with it, aiming at the far wall to shatter it further.

“Whoa, hey!” Jackieboy caught his arm mid-swing, stealing the glass shard out of his grasp and tossing it into the sink before grabbing the doctor’s arms. “Henrik, what is wrong with you?! Why’re you so upset?”

“Because without caffeine, I won’t be able to make the _hours_ of work I need so I can renew doctor’s license! I run out and I—I cannot think straight, I can’t write because my hands shake, and the headache—I can’t be sick, Jackieboy, my paperwork is due next morning!” Schneep wailed.

“It practically _is_ morning.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Shoulders slumping, Schneep pressed his hands against his face, moaning into them. “I’ll never get it done, never be an expert doctor again! I’m ruined…”

“Hey, that’s nowhere near true! You’re a doctor whether or not you’ve got the license; you’ve got all the training in that big brain of yours, right?” Jackieboy offered consolingly, to which Schneep just shook his head. “Listen to me, okay? It’s gonna be fine. C’mere.” Using the hold he already had on Schneep to his advantage, he tugged him close enough that he could drape his arms around him without having to reach for it.

Schneep stayed stiff and unresponsive for just a few more seconds before slowly drooping into the hug, sighing and defeatedly tucking his chin into the soft spot between Jackieboy’s throat and his shoulder. Several minutes later, he spoke again in an exhausted whisper, like he didn’t want to say it any louder for fear someone else would hear. “I don’t want to fail, Jackie. Not again.”

“You won’t,” Jackieboy soothed, rubbing his back reassuringly and ignoring the sweaty dampness of his coat. “It’s gonna be just fine.” When Schneep only mumbled unintelligibly in response, Jackieboy gently tapped the sides of their heads together, adding, “Tell you what: I’ll clean up out here and then make a trip to one of those round-the-clock coffee places, grab some expresso for you. While I’m gone, you’re bandaging your hands and then taking a nap.”

“Wh—I can’t,” the doctor protested, lifting his head just enough to shake it. “There’s too much, far too much—”

“Henrik, you’re gonna fall asleep on your feet,” Jackieboy cut him off, pulling back to clasp the sides of his neck and give him a stern stare. “I’ll come back with coffee and _then_ you can keep working, got it?”

“…Fine,” Schneep relented; he didn’t have much energy to put up a fight. “Just promise to wake me as soon as you get back. An expert doctor cannot sleep on the job.”

“Pinky-swear,” Jackieboy teased lightly before pushing him in the direction of the hall. “Go on.” As soon as Schneep stumbled out of sight, Jackieboy exhaled slowly, shaking his head. He’d get the best coffee this side of the city, that was for sure—but if he happened to take the long way around and it gave the doctor more time to rest, that’d just be a bonus.

 


	4. To The Brink and Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place immediately after the video [Teabag Edition | Bro Average](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78gNJBqESAc) and I'm leaving a warning here for a small reference to the aftermath of Chase's suicide attempt.

4.

“Where is he?” Jackieboy demanded, slamming the door to Schneep’s lab open with such force that one of the hinges broke. He paid it no attention, making a beeline for the doctor who was slumped in his office chair, which he had pulled a few yards closer to the curtain hiding his examination table and medical beds.

“In there,” Schneep whispered, gesturing shakily toward the curtain and Jackieboy in turn jabbed his own thumb back at the entryway.

“Give us some space,” he ordered. Whatever color was left in Schneep’s ashen face drained away and he opened his mouth to protest, but Jackieboy cut him off with a warning growl. “ _Henrik_ …”

When Jackieboy resorted to first names with that tone, Schneep knew better than to push his luck. Swallowing hard, he rose and quickly took his exit, dragging the lab door closed behind him. With that taken care of, Jackieboy strode right up to the curtain but stopped just short when he realized how tightly his teeth and fists were clenched. For a few moments he closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe.

If he went in like this, it wouldn’t help anything. He was like his creator in that he tended to step away from an argument for a while to cool down, but no amount of stepping away would help in this situation. He was angrier than he cared to admit but more than that, he was _heartbroken_.

For once in his life, he needed to focus on the hurt instead of the justice needed for it.

Sliding aside the curtain, he moved toward the nearest medical bed. As soon as he saw Chase lying there, pale and silent, bandages plastered profusely to the side of his head, his heart broke all over again and it was all he could do not to back out.

“Chase…” he murmured, drawing close to his bedside and placing a hand on his arm, religiously avoiding the IV. “Chase, you with me?”

The younger Ego’s eyes fluttered open gradually but as soon as he registered Jackieboy’s presence, he flinched in alarm, his heart monitor stuttering. “You—You came to ream me?” he asked uncertainly. He sounded so young…He _was_ so young.

“N-No,” Jackieboy managed. That had been his original intention, but now that he was here…Leaning down so they were almost at eye-level, he added with as much determination as he could muster, “It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, it would _never_ be okay; Chase had tried to kill himself in front of millions of viewers and _how_ was that ever okay?

Chase didn’t buy it either; the longer he stared back at the hero, the more anguished his gaze became. Before Jackieboy could revise his words, Chase was lunging at him, nearly knocking over his IV rack in his desperation to bury his face in Jackieboy’s shoulder, clutching at the back of his hood, pulling at his hair.

The first whimper broke the dam as if it had never been there; mere seconds later he dissolved into hopeless, wrenching sobs and Jackieboy instinctively clamped a trembling hand against the back of his neck, keeping him close. As he pressed his nose into Chase’s matted hair, he was forced to stifle a sob of his own when the acrid scent of medical chemicals and gunpowder greeted him.

His knees went weak at the horrifying memories it brought with it— _running, running so hard and so fast that his feet burned, hearing Schneep scream for a gurney, watching Marvin sob and plead as he tore off his cape and compressed the side of Chase’s head_ —but he didn’t dare to recoil. He couldn’t. Chase was still here and he needed him, he reminded himself fiercely, locking his other arm around Chase’s lower back and half-lifting him from the bed, cradling him as if this was their very last moment together.

 _We wouldn’t have_ had _a last moment.…We’re never_ supposed _to have a last moment. We’re supposed to have forever._

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not for Chase. Why did it have to be him? Jackieboy wanted nothing more than to take his place or to squeeze all of the agony out of him like resetting a bone, but the best he could do in his helplessness was let it all soak into his jumpsuit. That he did, holding Chase steady until he had cried himself back to sleep. Only when the younger Ego slumped completely limp against his chest did Jackieboy duck his head and let his own tears spill.


	5. Safety First, Healing Last

5.

They still weren’t leaving, Jackieboy noted wearily as one of the others banged on the door again; he couldn’t tell which one it was. Halfheartedly interested, he blinked his x-ray vision into place. Chase had rooted himself in front of the door, not to be turned away, he discovered, letting his vision fade back to normal and pulling his hood lower over his face.

If anything was immediately within reach, he might have mustered the energy to throw it at the door as a message saying he wasn’t taking visitors, but he was too exhausted to actively go searching or even shift out of his slump against the back wall of his room. Just the thought of rising forced him from sitting half-propped to lying on his side, one arm tucked underneath his head to pillow it. His carpet smelled like dust bunnies and old laundry, but it was soft.

“C’mon, just let us in, would you?” Chase pleaded, thumping just one more time against the door; it sounded like he had pressed his forehead against it.

“We just want to help you!” Schneep put in earnestly. When had he gotten there? “No need to shut us out, my friend! We’re here to make things better, to fix!”

“You can’t fix me,” Jackieboy muttered, uncaring whether they heard it or not. He did perk up a little when he heard Marvin telling the others to stand back, raising his voice to snap, “No! Stop that, I don’t want you—”

It was too late; the door handle shimmered brightly with familiar magic and then promptly fell off, allowing them to push the door in easily. All three of them stopped up short upon seeing him in this state, curled up childishly in the corner, his cheeks burning under their stares. It didn’t take long, however, for Chase to break the stalemate. He moved forward, dropping cross-legged in front of him and settling his elbows on his knees.

“You,” he stated in a strained, quiet voice, “are not okay.”

That was almost rich, coming from him, but Jackieboy didn’t have the heart to hurt him by pointing it out. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be,” he answered in the same tone. He knew he wasn’t; someone had _died_ because of him. His own recklessness was already flashing behind his eyes again: he paid more attention to the hijackers than to the armored car, the truck spun out of control, the unknowing pedestrian stepped out in the wrong place at the wrong time…He could still feel the limp weight of the innocent in his arms as he rushed toward the hospital. His superhuman speed hadn’t mattered; the young man was dead as soon as the truck made impact.

Jackieboy flinched out of his grim thoughts when he felt Chase’s hand rest against his side, the only source of warmth he could feel in the rest of the cold world. As much as he wanted to gravitate toward it, he brushed it away, forcing himself into a sitting position just for the sake of recoiling. Even the small motion made his head spin; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten or when his latest bout of grief had subsided. He must look like a scruffy, red-eyed, ridiculous mess, if his companions’ troubled expressions were anything to go by. Tucking his legs underneath him, he hunched into himself, half-wondering if they planned on doing or saying anything else.

He shouldn’t have doubted it because sure enough, they were already scooting closer—Chase and Schneep crowded in on either of his sides, while Marvin lowered himself down immediately in front so he couldn’t duck between them.

“What’re we supposed to do?” Marvin questioned, leaning in so close that he and Jackieboy almost bumped heads.

“What _can_ we do?” Chase added apprehensively.

Jackieboy expected Schneep to chime in with something of his own, but he didn’t ask a question. He didn’t have to. “It is…not good to be alone after death,” he stated slowly and surely, as if it was something he found difficult to admit. “You teach me that every time, Jackie, _every_ time.”

Jackieboy felt his throat tightening yet again at these words and he shook his head a little, trying and failing to shake the emotion away. He wasn’t sure he could take much more understanding from them without completely falling apart, but he found himself responding regardless. “I couldn’t save him. He didn’t even have anything to do with it all…He just got in the way.” Biting back a whimper, he lifted his head just enough to peek at the three of them through blurring vision.

This wasn’t right. It was his job to hold them up. It always had been; he was always, _always_ meant to have his hands on their backs, whether he was clinging to them, rubbing away their constant stress, or simply showing he was on their side. Yet here they were, staring back with all of the care and compassion they could show with nothing but their eyes, taking on his role without a thought…giving him permission to take on theirs.

“I wouldn’t mind a hug,” he confessed shakily. The words were barely out of his mouth before they were moving, huddling as close as they could, tangling around each other and around him. Marvin locked his hands around the back of his neck, pulling back the hero’s hood and pressing their foreheads together as Chase wrapped himself securely around his left arm and Schneep ducked under his right to slip around his chest.

They were warm and unwavering and fit perfectly wherever they landed and it was exactly what he had needed. Why hadn’t he done this from the start? Though the hero was grieving and raw and not okay by any means, he’d never felt safer.

Eventually, he would heal. They all would.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about Jackieboy's hugs, in case it wasn't obvious ;w;
> 
> This is yet another story that was supposed to be fluffy and turned into hurt/comfort instead! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment or a kudos down below if you want to tell me what you thought; I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
